


Burning Away

by ThatHCWriter



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020), Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Arson, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Blood and Injury, Canon Gay Relationship, Crossover, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Owen Strand, Hate Crimes, Hostage Situations, Hurt TK Strand, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Owen Strand tries, Serial Killers, TK Strand Whump, Torture, Unsub | Unknown Subject, Whump, Worried Owen Strand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 22:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHCWriter/pseuds/ThatHCWriter
Summary: A serial killer and arsonist is wreaking havoc in the Lone Star state, the body count is slowly growing, and the brutality is slowly turning up. It's enough to draw the attention of the BAU, and the concern of the 126.But as the FBI touches down to assist, the unsub makes a move no one expected.And the stakes for the 126 go from professional to very, very personal.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid & David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner & Jack Hotchner, Aaron Hotchner & Jack Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Owen Strand & TK Strand
Comments: 57
Kudos: 136





	1. Wheels Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've had cooking up for a little while now. Good old fashioned whump with a side of mystery. Hope this first part intrigues you even though it's a little short, because I've got plans. 
> 
> Warnings for torture and murder, as indicated in the tags.

There was a corpse being wheeled out of one of the ambulances of the 126. The entire environment felt strange whenever that happened, like it was some sort of graveyard, hallowed with respect and distant sadness. To some degree, it hit all of them hard every time, but something about this one made the crew's stomachs turn to a degree they'd never experienced before.

Because even though Captain Strand called it in, there were much more than just burns on the victim. 

There were so many scars, misshapen and unexplainable marks, and way _way_ too much blood for it to be considered natural. It would be up to the coroner to decide what the hell happened to this poor man, not because there were no clear indications, but because there were too many. 

TK Strand sat with Buttercup for a while, trying to ignore the blood on his shirt and the nagging, awful image of the way the man was slumped over, with his face contorted in an only recently faded pained grimace. His fingers ran through the dog's fur, trying to ground himself the best he could. 

He thought of his dad, how he'd always be there to calm him down after a bad shift. He wouldn't ever press, or ask anything he didn't feel comfortable answering. He'd just sit peacefully next to him, offer him a shoulder to cry on and a steady hand rubbing up and down his back if he needed. He missed that lately, more than he cared to admit. His parents were so occupied with the new baby, with their new start that he seemed to be falling by the wayside. 

And it hurt. 

It hurt even before he'd done everything he could to try and save the battered man. But now, now he needed to talk to someone who wasn't going to water it down to a professional matter. He wouldn't even take too much time out of their day, he just wanted someone to listen. He just wanted....

"Hey babe, can I talk to you for a second?" Carlos appeared out of no where, his eyes soft and concerned. TK shook his head, blinking rapidly. 

"Yeah... yeah sure. What's going on." Carlos sucked in a deep breath, wringing his hands in thought. 

"The man you found in there, my captains want to know details..." TK hung his head, and Carlos gently cupped his cheek, "I know.. I know, I'm sorry, but... I'm just gonna tell you straight out," Carlos glanced at the floor before settling himself, "He wasn't the first person to be found like that." 

\---

Across the country, the BAU sat around the table as usual, manila envelopes being exchanged and elite minds beginning to churn away as Agent Rossi stood firmly at the front. "The victim's name is Arthur Straussman, 22 years old, recent graduate of UT Austin. He was found in an abandoned building by local firefighters..." 

"Firefighters? Do we know the cause of death?" Morgan asked, flipping through the file evenly. Rossi shook his head. 

"There's clear evidence of torture of various kinds, all of which was inflicted while the victim was alive. There was no evidence of smoke inhalation, so the fire was an after thought. Same goes for the previous five victims." 

"Five?" 

"All throughout the last three months. No regular interval between the murders. Never within the same fire jurisdiction either. Suggests our unsub has some sort of familiarity with the city planning layout. Also, all of the victims have been found in abandoned industrial buildings, on the top floor no less." Reid leaned forward, scratching his chin and quietly taking notes.

"And what about the other victims? What are the other commonalities? I mean, there has to be more here, this is organized." JJ asked pointedly, glancing up from the file momentarily. 

"All of the victims are young, white men all in their twenties. Brown hair, similar build. There's very little consistency as to the torture, several different weapons, several different areas of the body targeted. Only constant is that the fire was likely lit after they were dead," Emily scanned the others, their minds collectively pondering the ghastly details and forming the start of a profile. 

"Well," Hotch said thoughtfully and firmly, turning to the team, "We can't learn much else just sitting around here. Let's go check this out." 

\---

Giving the statement to the detectives wore heavily on TK, and as his interview stretched into hour three, he started to focus some of the smallest details that made his mind go to horrible places. The wounds were awful enough on their own, even for a seasoned first responder but the man's face was what really burrowed its way into TK's mind. 

In some awful way, small but undeniable, the victim looked like him. 

His hair was cut like his, his frame was built like his, they nearly even shared a face. It was creepy to say the least, and though he was curious, he didn't ask about the others. Not only was he fairly sure he wasn't allowed to, he didn't want to scare himself worse than he already had. 

Unfortunately, Carlos had been called away to make a welfare check (he could only hope it was unrelated), leaving TK to make the drive to their apartment by himself. He moved with a strange sense of caution, an intense sense of fear, a feeling he was being watched. He got into his car without thinking much of it, focusing instead on the bushes around the end of the parking lot. His eyes trained on the darkness, he locked the door and began to drive just as he had a million nights before. He remembered turning out and onto the street, hitting a stoplight at just the wrong time.

And then, the world went black. 

The next thing he remembered was the feeling of brittle rope cutting into his ankles and wrists.

A throaty, cocky laugh came from somewhere he couldn't decipher, sending a violent chill down his spine. 

"Good morning, Tyler," A similarly deep, disembodied voice cooed at him from the shadows, the sound of footsteps and a sharpening blade cutting through the stale and menacing air. TK strained against his binding on instinct, his heart beating faster and faster with every passing moment. The voice tutted, "Don't waste your energy. Trust me, you won't get far." TK tried to steady his breathing, ignoring the man and fighting harder. 

That was a mistake. He learned that the second he felt the horrible sting of a blade pressing into the back of his bicep. He couldn't help the scream that left him. His captor laughed. 

"Go right ahead. No one's gonna hear you," the man stepped in front of TK, his face obscured behind a faceless white mask, "You and I are going to get to know each other really well."


	2. Patrilineal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU meets the crews who discovered the body, and Garcia discovers another important link between the victims. 
> 
> Meanwhile, TK realizes just how precarious his situation has become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so much for the feedback on chapter one! I was blown away, truly. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.
> 
> Same warnings as before for this chapter, but the whump gets a little bit more intense and we get some more explanations. Also, season 2 Owen is... Season 2 Owen. 
> 
> Hold on, my friends. 
> 
> It's about to get real.

_Where are you?_

_You're needed at the station_

_TK? You okay?_

_Son? Call me._

Captain Owen Strand set his phone down in frustration as he pressed send, shaking his head violently. He thought he was through with this. He thought he would at the very least talk to him, but hours were passing and TK wasn't there. _Should he go check on him? Last time he didn't show up at the..._ No, no he couldn't go there. TK was happy, all of them were, the anticipation of the new baby leaving most of Owen's circle feeling joyous anticipation rather than the pain that would cause another relapse.

Who was he kidding, he didn't even have the time to think of the possibilities at the moment. The fire house was buzzing with activity and movement, cleaning and straightening and briefing everyone who would need to be ready for their visitors. When it got out to the team that the FBI had called Captain Strand, curious about the conditions of the fire, everyone immediately offered to help. Owen was almost amused.

"Don't want to disappoint the Feds, Cap," Judd said almost snidely, rubbing the last bit of polish onto the back of the rig and clapping Owen on the shoulder, "Specially if this is as bad as I think it is. I've never even heard of these people before." Owen winced. 

"..Apparently they're the best of the best. I just look at it like a chance to help them catch the bastard. Before he ends up hurting anyone else." Owen sighed, turning to him, "Say, have you heard from TK?" Judd shook his head, "Shit, Judd, I..."

"He'll be here soon, Cap. Cut the kid a little bit of slack." Owen sighed, shaking his head once again and biting his lip. Judd raised his eyebrow, "If he's not here in a few, I'll slide out and check on him if it would make you feel better." Owen smiled at him, nodding gratefully. "He ain't gonna be happy with me, but just for you I...." 

"Thanks Judd..." Owen said with a dark laugh, his worries assuaged for a moment. 

"Hey guys!" Marjan said sharply from behind him, gesturing to a quickly approaching black van, "They're here." 

\---

The world was fuzzy for TK Strand, the only clear sensation in his mind was the stinging pain of the cuts on his arms and the strange, warm sensation of blood slowly running down his arms, dampening the rope being used to bind him. He was almost positive the guy in the mask dosed him with something, too. He was bleeding, sure, but he could barely think straight, and a knife that small on the arms shouldn't do that to him. 

"How are we feeling, Tyler?" The man approached him slowly, an unfamiliar small box in his hands. TK's head lolled back, groaning softly. The man walked behind him, hissing sarcastically, "Looks painful. Say, you're a paramedic, aren't you?" TK reluctantly nodded. "Alright, how perfect. Your time to shine then." The man set the case down on a table near TK, opening his arms in an invitation, "You've got a patient with severe bleeding in the arms. Tell me..." The man gripped his chin and squeezed hard, "How would you go about saving him?"

\---

"Captain Strand?" A blonde woman in a sharp blazer said as she stepped out of the car, followed closely by a stone-faced man who didn't so much as look at the team, "Agent Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone, this is Agent Hotchner, Agent Morgan will be joining us shortly." Owen shook hands with the team in turn, trying to keep his head up and not to be intimidated by the group, or distracted by the morning's confusion. 

"Nice to meet you," Owen said professionally, glancing around at his team, "I hope we can be of help." 

"Yeah, we're hoping so too. We've just got a few questions, won't take up much of your time, we know you've got a community to serve." Owen scoffed slightly, smiling politely at the group. 

"No worries," Owen started pacing slightly, his eyes thinning as he shook his head slightly. Agent Jereau stepped forward slightly. 

"Are you alright, Captain?" Owen nodded, slightly embarrassed. 

"Yeah, yeah, just... My son..." He shook it off, "You're not here to talk about that, though. You're here for business, let's get to business." Owen clapped his hands together firmly, trying to diffuse the strange atmosphere. JJ and Hotch silently took note. 

"So what can you what tell us about the fire?" Morgan asked openly, leaning back onto the locker behind them. 

"Well, I knew it was arson right away," Judd said matter-of-factly, "No mistakin the gas trails outside the building." 

\---

There were six full red jugs of gasoline sitting across the room from TK, a single matchbox sitting in front of it like it was a loaded gun. The sight had momentarily taken his focus off of the awful pulling and burning sensation in his arms, the sloppily done new stitches somehow itching and aching all at once. He was snapped back to attention by the feeling of cold metal on his neck. 

He jerked away before he could see what it is. His captor chuckled. 

"So that's caught your eye, huh?" The man leaned into TK's ear, speaking with gleeful malice, "Looking forward to your final sendoff?" TK couldn't even focus on his words. That's not where his mind was. Not where the fear was coming from. 

He didn't care about being in the fire. 

He cared about the team that would see him like this. The team that would carry his scarred and burning body down to whatever street they were situated near. He prayed that wherever it was, it wasn't 126 jurisdiction. 

_Please, I know someone has to find me, but not them. Not dad. He can't take this. Don't make him see this._ His thoughts were being quietly and messily spoken aloud before he could control it, drawing a sigh from his captor. 

"TK, oh TK..." His captor said harshly, bringing a cold, sharp piece of metal under his chin. A fireman's axe. "No use keeping secrets now. And don't worry. I won't forget about your father." 

\----

"So then why the fire? They didn't tell us to look for a living victim, by all accounts he was dead before we got there," Marjan asked, folding her arms. 

"We believe it might be a power issue. Someone like this might want to watch their victim be destroyed completely, under their control to the highest degree. What I'm asking is was there anyone watching the fire? Anyone who seemed excited by it?" Hotch asked, scanning for responses. Slowly, but surely, one of the men's hands raised as a strange look crossed his face. "Yes, Lieutenant Strickland.."

Just as the man began speaking, Morgan's phone rang. He politely, yet swiftly excused himself, ducking into the station's kitchen. When he picked up the phone, a familiarly bubbly voice greeted him. "Houston, we have some genius." Morgan laughed softly. 

"We're in Austin, baby girl, but I'll keep that between us if you tell me somethin good." Garcia chuckled, typing idly from the other end of the phone. 

"Oh trust me, I think I did," she laughed slightly, "I was digging into the victim's profiles and I found something I think might interest you. All of them have dads who hold a position of power, a CEO, a national guard commander, even a school superintendent. What's even more interesting is that all of them followed into that field." Morgan's eyes grew wide and his jaw fell agape. 

"Hang on a minute sweetness," Derek said sharply, turning back into the room and interrupting Hotch, "Captain Strand, you mentioned something about your son. What's going on with him?" Owen turned to them, confused.

"He didn't show up for work today, why what's... What's going on?" 

"And where does he work?" 

"He works here. He's a paramedic, a damn good one if say so myself, why?" Derek's expression darkened. Hotch and JJ looked to him instantly. 

"Do you have a picture handy?" Owen grew even more fidgety, nodding and pulling out a picture from one of his uniform's pockets before subtly jabbing Judd on the shoulder. He got the hint quickly, sliding out of the room instantly. One glance at the photo, the brown hair, the atheltic build and even the shape of his face sent a chill down the agents' spines. Morgan whispered to them too quietly for the 126 to hear, but Hotch's face was enough to raise Owen's heart rate. 

"I don't understand. Agents, what's happening?" JJ approached him briskly, keeping her voice down. One agent was on the phone, the other speaking authoritatively to his team, but he didn't pay it any mind, his attention focused solely on the woman in front of him. 

"There's no easy way to say this sir, but..." JJ trailed off, steeling herself, "Your son fits the profile of the other victims. We don't know for sure yet, but we believe he might be in trouble." Owen's hand went to his chest, leaning over the table to brace himself. "We're going to do everything we can to..." 

"What can we do?" Owen cut her off, working only on instinct. JJ stepped back. 

"What?" 

"What can I do? I mean, we're first responders. You mentioned fire, if we get called to one of those, do you think he'll be.... God..." Owen trailed off, rubbing his face in his hand. JJ swallowed hard. 

"Captain Strand, based on the patterns we've seen, the last thing we want is for you to be called to a fire." Owen cocked his head in confusion. JJ looked him in the eye, attempting to steady him, "The fire is the last thing that happens in these crimes. Simply put, if we find him in a fire, it will likely already be too late."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you found those revelations interesting! I was so blown away with the response to chapter one, so I hope you guys like this one just as much! 
> 
> Stay tuned, and stay gold my friends!!


	3. 545.305

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officer Carlos Reyes makes two terrible discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback has just been blowing me away. I am so amazingly appreciative of you all. Thank you. 
> 
> Warning for this chapter are the same as usual (more explicit here toward the end) plus some very lightly implied emetophobia. 
> 
> And before you ask, yes. The title does mean something.

Unfortunately for officer Reyes, what was supposed to be a simple welfare check turned into nearly a full shift, complete with a barely cooperative family, a surprisingly aggressive dog, and if that wasn't enough, a body (an older woman, natural causes by all accounts, thankfully.) It took nearly four hours for the situation to finally diffuse enough for him to leave, and the relief that hit him when he finally sat down in his car was palpable.

However, it was also extremely short lived. 

The sound of a call from dispatch rang out like an air horn, obnoxious and wild and exactly what he didn't want to hear in that moment. With an exaggerated sigh, he picked it up, forcing his voice to sound somewhat alert. "This is Reyes. what's going on." 

"Abandoned vehicle on 17th, couple blocks down from the station. Black Silverado. Caller said it was parked strangely, they seemed concerned. Shouldn't be anything, just check it out. License is...." Carlos sighed, tuning out the information accidentally, and turning out of the residential block toward the station. No need for sirens around here, not when he was responding to something as mundane as an abandoned car. He gave only a moment of thought to the car's description as he pulled away. It was one of the most common cars in Austin, sure, but it was also the one TK drove when he was off-duty. 

Carlos shook off the thought as quickly as it came. After all, the odds were slim to none that it belonged to anyone he knew, much less his boyfriend. 

Hoping to push the thought even further away, he let mind drifted while he drove, hoping TK got out of questioning okay, feeling a pang of guilt when he remembered he wasn't there to support him while he relived... _whatever_ it was he saw in there. Carlos didn't respond to the call, so the information he had was, to put it generously, limited. Based on the look in TK's eyes alone, though, he was pretty sure he wanted to keep it that way. 

The vehicle came up faster than he expected, and he wasn't even out of his car when realize something was very amiss. 

The car wasn't pulled over as neatly as dispatch made it sound. The tires were angled sharply toward the edge of the road, the passenger's side door still ajar. The officer got out of his car, hesitantly approaching the truck from the back. As he drew closer to the truck's bed, something from deep within Carlos' gut almost prevented him from continuing further. He couldn't place it, couldn't even name it, but something about the car screamed at him as if it were a banshee, warning of something horrible he had yet to decipher. Reluctantly, and with dread in his chest, he pressed forward, his hand instinctively hovering over his firearm. 

As he neared the open door, it hit him like a train. A noxious, awful smell somewhere between bleach and gasoline that nearly made him double over. Gripping his shirt above his nose and trying not to lurch, he glanced into the disheveled cab, stopping cold when he saw a wallet on the ground. It was open haphazardly, cash still visibly peaking out of the pocket on one side. On the other side, obstructed by the underside of the passenger's seat, was an ID. 

Carlos only managed to pull it out an inch, just enough to make out the photo, before he called for backup. 

And then, for Owen. 

\---

Owen had been speaking to Agent Jareau for a few hours when the call came in. He wasn't even sure what he was thinking about at any given moment, regrets and fears and painful musings blending together to cloud his focus. He thought he was hearing her talk about a plan of action, some discussion of phone tracing, and an agent, the one who didn't so much as flinch in the last several hours, speaking in an alarmingly kind tone to someone on the other end.

The ringing of his phone was jarring enough, but seeing Carlos' name appear on the phone felt like yet another punch to the gut. He excused himself and picked it up, not sure how to start the conversation. He didn't get the chance to ponder that very long. 

"Hey, uh, Owen.. Shit, I... Have you talked to TK?" Owen's stomach lurched. He didn't respond for a moment, trying to get the room to stop spinning around him, "I got called to check out a car, and..." 

"It's his?" It was somewhere between a question and a statment, like Owen knew it was true, but wanted to leave the slim chance it wasn't open just in case. Carlos breathed shakily as sirens began to wail from the other end of the phone. 

"Yeah... Yeah, it is," Carlos trailed off, sucking in a tearful breath as Owen leaned over the table, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I... I don't know what the hell happened. His things are everywhere, and the smell... I...." The details didn't even land for Owen in the moment. He also didn't notice the look on agent Jareau's face that was trained on him worriedly. 

"Captain Strand," She said firmly when he finally managed to look at her, "We found your son's...." 

"Car," Owen sighed heavily, wincing apologetically when he saw the confusion on Agent Jareau's face, "His uh... His boyfriend was the responding officer." The agent grimaced and gestured to the phone. He nodded. Jareau turned away from him, pulling a phone to her ear. The next thing Owen remembered was hearing slowly growing sobs from the other end of the phone. Other voices spoke in the background, nearly drowning out the sound. Owen's heart ached in more ways than he could explain.

"Hey, Carlos, breathe for me," Owen's voice was as calm and fatherly as he could muster, "That's it, it's alright. Hey, talk to me. What's going on over there." Carlos sighed heavily. 

"They're canvasing the area, trying to... Trying to see where he went. God, Owen, I'm so sorry..." 

"It's not your fault, Carlos..." 

"No! I could've stayed with him, I could have called sooner..." 

"Don't do that to yourself. It's no one's fault, it's that psycho..." 

"What?" Carlos blurted it out like he'd been struck, "What the hell do you mean?" Owen sighed sadly. 

"We don't know for sure yet, but the FBI thinks..." 

"Woah woah woah the FBI?" Carlos steadied himself as his mind slowly began to connect the dots. "Oh... Oh my god the body. The body he found in the...." Owen heard Carlos wretch on the other end. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel like doing the same thing. There was a long, almost agonizing pause, both men trying desperately not to implode from the pervasive worry. Determination rising in him, Owen swallowed and spoke. 

"Come down to the station." Carlos let out a confused breath. Owen didn't back down, "I'm serious..." the chief drew a deep breath, "you shouldn't be alone right now... Neither of us should." 

\---

As hard as he tried to fight it, TK could feel himself beginning to slip. He was exhausted, the fight to keep his eyes open becoming a constant one. His head would roll back occasionally, the temptation to let his eyes drift closed and let the pain drift away sometimes coming on stronger than he suspected. But he shook himself awake every time. 

Not because of the constant, low level pain emanating from his arms, but because of the voice in his head encouraging him to hold on, not for himself, but for the people that cared about him. 

Hold on, so he could see what the future with Carlos looked like. The new rescue dog they'd bring into their lives, the scene where he'd finally get up the courage to get down on one knee, the wedding, the _promise_ , every ounce of love he'd yet to show that amazing man, every moment he'd yet to spend with him. 

Hold on, so he'd have the chance to meet his baby brother, to hear his dad be declared "cancer free," and to just hug him one more time. He didn't do that enough, especially not lately. They were on calls all the time that they didn't think they'd survive, and yet, somehow he didn't feel like they actually said the words enough. 

_Stay with us, Tiger_ , a voice in his head, a voice he'd give anything to hear again, said, _You're so strong baby, just stay with us._ He tried to somehow affirm the words, take them to heart. Somehow make them true enough to grasp, true enough for someone to hear. 

It felt like a cloth pressed against the slowly bleeding wound of his mind, enough to temporarily soothe him. 

And distract him. 

He was too lost in his head to notice his captor approaching him curiously, laughing darkly. The man was standing right in front of his chair before he finally caught TK's attention, something the captor didn't miss. "It's too damn early for you to get this woozy on me. Thought somebody like you would do better than most under pressure. But then again, you don't seem to be made of the stuff you think you are, do you?" TK tried to respond, but his voice died in his throat. The man's hands turned behind his back, as if he was adjusting his grip. "Looks like you need something to focus on," the man said darkly, turning his body so that his side was in line with TK's chest, "Here's an idea." 

TK didn't have time to react in those next few seconds. 

He could only recoil as the man eyed his left leg, before pulling the red ax from behind his body, the blunt end facing TK. With a huff, and a mighty roll of the shoulder's, the man swung. 

And TK screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay whump, right! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and your feedback has been insane so far, thank you so much! 
> 
> Have an awesome day, my friends!


End file.
